WAHAHAHHAHA! My blog title is so rude I almost cried reading it!! Don't you just want to slap me with a piece of freshly painted char siew?!

My dear blog readers, especially those pioneering ones who has been here since Eddy era, I wanna say something:

I AM SORRY!!

No lah, really lah. You know why? Coz I just realised what a horrible person I am. You guys, most of you anyway, have always been very nice and supportive of what I do. Instead of being appreciative and kind-hearted to you all, I chose to focus on the cynical, rude people and somehow managed to convince myself *gasp* that my READERS ARE ALL EVIL!

When in actual fact I should not be giving any attention to these people who are delibrately stabbing me! They deserve ignoring. My attention should be given, in the form of gratitude, to those who wrote me such wondrous encouragements and those who were by my side all the while!

You know what my blogders? I am such a horrible person. I am also a little schizophrenic lah. I sometimes think, wow, I am quite lucky hor, to get people supporting me. AND THEN THAT EVIL LITTLE VOICE IN MY HEAD, the one that sounds like Ben Stiller in Dodgeball, will holler over the kindred voice in a menacing matter and say, "TO HELL WITH THAT XIAXUE! YOU WRITE WELL! YOU EARNED ALL OF YOUR READERS YOURSELF KNN!!"

Yes, complete with the 'kannina'.

But no no no ... No one is obligated to be nice to me. I cannot think that way! It's wrong and I am a nice person!

I am in fact very very privileged to have blogders being supportive of me. =)

Damn, I wouldn't even have so many guys trying to ask me for sex! (if that is a good thing at all)

I shall stop being a fucking arrogant whore and acknowledge that it is my blogders who made me who I am today. (At this point of time please imagine me flashing a wide smile to you).

No lah, this is not PR, really. C'mon, I admitted I am a selfish whore, how can that possibly be PR?

SO ... you are possibly thinking you did nothing much by just reading me, can I please move on to why I ask ugly people to go to hell?

Sure.

Let me admit something to you:

The title is irrelevant to the topic/s of the day!

MUAHAHAHAHA! It is to attract attention! It is just to make ugly people angry! Aha aha ahahaha!

Come to think of it, I do have an "ugly" story to tell.

First of all let me put a disclaimer. You ask furiously, "Do you discriminate against ugly people Xiaxue?"

If I were a plastic surgeon I would say yes, please come and I will help you, but pay me GOOD $$$$ first! But since I am just a blogger, I would say no. Why no? Because I am definitely not good looking myself (although that does not necessarily mean I cannot discriminate ugly people but please let it pass). What? You think I am pretty? Oh man, do not believe anything in the virtual world! Whatever makes you think I am not some fat bastard typing this? In actual fact the point is that ugly people do not affect me and some of them are actually rich, so they are ok.

So anyway.

There was this once I was at Jurong East MRT and I saw this ugly couple. OH MAN! I know it! Some holy people (possibly people who sincerely believe that "there is some good in everyone". Screw that. I know some people who are JUST made solely out of evilness, wanna intro?) out there will be saying "Who are you to judge who is ugly and who is pretty, Xiaxue?". Oh STFU I say. TRUST ME, THEY ARE UGLY. *nods head violently*

Shianux and I had this argument once and we agreed that although there is no universal standards for being good-looking, there IS a sort of universal standard for, erm, ugliness. For example, no offence to people with lumps, people with lumps are ... definitely not sexy.

Back to the ugly couple. Let me vividly describe how they look like. The man is a lanky thing with thick, thick spectacles. He was carrying a huge haversack and was wearing exactly what you imagine (OMG, how do these people do that?!).

May I also add that he has a receding hairline and a relatively pimple-scarred face? Oh yes, with an underbite too.

I imagine he is a technician.

If you think that man came out of the eighties, wait till you see the terror clung on to his arm like a starved leech.

A short, thick-set lady in clothes too small for her, she has this permanently unpleasant look on her face - like she just swallowed something revolting. And swallowed again. And again. You read The Order Of The Phoenix? Yes, she looks totally like how I imagine Professor Umbridge to look like. Her face had this "punched in" look about it, and her eyes are semi-protruding and beady.

This lady was holding on to the technician's elbow for dear life, and one can only presume that they were a couple. THE HORRORS! THE KIDS! THE SEX! OMG THE SEX!

He picked it up, and in my point of view, spoke in a rather business-like manner. His girlfriend stared up at him with her beady eyes laced with suspicion, and 20 secs into his speech, started barking incessantly at him to ask him who it was.

I wanted to slap her but I thought her eyes might pop out and spurt on my face.

Ahem.

Clearly it was a business phone call and he ignored her and turned a little in the opposite direction.

He continued ignoring her, which was a bad move because she continued barking louder and louder. Finally, while the man was concluding his business call with a plastic grin, she decided to fold her arms and sulk in a totally unappealing manner. Well, at least she stopped talking.

Bless them for coming out in public.

The guy kept his 8210 back into his haversack and realised that his girlfriend is no longer standing beside him. He looked over his shoulder and realised she had stayed put from the moment she begin sulking, and was determindedly looking at the floor.

He sighed, I presume, not because he is concerned over how upset she is but over the fact that people are beginning to stare at her.

Man, she is ugly.

Look, I cannot help it. As I look upon this scene, she looked so grouchy that her ugliness seemed to be magnified a million times. While she radiated and exuded ugliness with all her might, all the flowers within a ten mile radius withered and somewhere, a puppy is being tortured.

The courageous man walked towards her, braving the strong waves of ugliness, exasperation written on every scar on his face.

They begin conversing in rapid Chinese. The lady started asking him who it was. Yes, I heard everything because I was sitting down very close to where the sulky lady chose to stand.

Apparently somebody from his office had called, and she doesn't even know whether it is male or female when she started to get paranoid. When she realised it is indeed female, she pressed on about who she is, refusing to move on.

The guy, a quiet, nervous type, managed to convince her that that was just a business call and nothing else. She said, "Make sure it stays that way!" and decided that she is pacified.

MY SWEET LORD.

What on Earth is wrong with that old fucker? Seriously speaking, what's the point of being attached to an ugly git if you still feel insecure? Hello, if she dated Tay Ping Hui, then naturally she would wonder every minute whether he has succumbed to some random fan's sexual tantalizations.

BUT LOOK AT THE TWERP SHE HAS FOR A BF!

Nobody wants him lah HELLO!?! WAKE UP YOUR IDEA - HE IS UGLY LIKE FUCK! If the girl on the line heard how she reacted, she WOULD LAUGH CAN? I say, make up your mind lah lady. It is quite obvious that if he could get someone better, he would have dumped you straightaway. I would. And since it is quite obvious he cannot get someone better, why worry?

I HAVE NO PATIENCE for people like that. If you lose your guy to a third party, it is no one's fault but YOUR OWN. Why not go do some self-examination? Is it your breasts? Are they too small? Or is the other girl willing to do fabulous blowjobs while you only did 5 in five years (and not swallowing too!)?

I say girls - instead of being siao like that ugly lady, just go improve your attitude towards your guys lah, and shut up about breaking up too.

I am so sick of people saying they want to break up and do not do it. When you ask them the next day, "What did he say about the break up?", they look determindedly away and mumble that they didn't break up after all. When you ask "Why?", they give you a patronising nonsensical answer like "Hiyah, like that lor".

ALL GO DIE!

I am sick and tired of being a relationship consultant. People PRETEND to listen to my advice, and the next day they continue, in some cases, to be abused by their partners - and gimme that same patronising statement. WHY ASK ME IN THE FIRST PLACE? Don't lah! Just don't break up! Don't even think about it, YOU WILL NOT DO IT!

Anyway, you will never guess where my mum is right now:

SUICIDE MISSION. 2am (make it 2:50am now as I vet this), and she is somewhere, stopping this simpering (yet another) female fucker who threatened suicide because of bloody relationship problems.

MY MUM HAS TO FUCKING WORK TOMORROW IN THE MORNING. CAN YOU STOP DEPRIVING HER OF HER SLEEP BECAUSE OF YOUR FUCKING CHILDISH ANTICS?

You know what I think of such people? I think they should JUST DIE. They want to die right? Sure! Who are we to stop them from doing things they want to do? It's their life!

But does this girl sincerely want to die?

NO!

Time and again she calls my mum (thank god for free incoming) and my mum counsels her, patiently repeating the same things over and over again. Even I can memorise the speech. But does she listen? NO! She WANTS, she CHOOSES, to wallow in self-pity!

Oooh I am so miserable why doesnt he love me anymore my life is all about him blah blah yadda yadda YEAH BITCH WHY DON'T YOU GO RUN YOURSELF OVER WITH A BULLDOZER AND STOP MAKING MY MUM MAKE ME DO THE LAUNDRY BECAUSE SHE IS SO TIRED AFTER LISTENING TO YOUR BULLSHIT FOR FIVE HOURS?!

These pathetic people just want ATTENTION. In their miserable existence they are not getting enough from their lovers because, as abovementioned, they are just losers. So they weep around, hoping that their "friends" will show concern for them. Tell you what, tearduct: Your friends are all sick and tired of you. Just go and die.

But ho ho ho! How are u supposed to die if you expressly ask your 'friends' to come rescue you?

If she wants to die, just jump off lah. Why must she inform everyone? Why is she waiting for them to come to her? Just ... plop! There you go, off to heaven where people might actually appreciate you!

Oh, I know what the whiner wants my mum to do! She wants my mum to go over to her place, with her LOVER in toil. She then hopes that the star-crossed lover will see her in a horrible state without him, preferably with some bleeding wrists and a tear-strained face.

I don't understand why some females are so fuck-stupid. Whatever makes them think the guy will come back to them if they behave like this? GUYS HAVE COMMITMENT PHOBIA! They are terrified that they will never be able to leave you (ever!) if you threaten suicide everytime he goes to the loo for 5 minutes of solitaire. They will come back for a short while and buay tahan and leave; and then you commit suicide again.

I hope you succeed this time round.

If you don't, the guy will be driven crazy and he turns necrophilic. It is all YOUR fault that they world has perverts.

Anyway, back to the girl who just wouldn't die. (I hope to see her on the papers tomorrow. Oops? Cruel is it? Too bad, I told you I have no patience for depressed people - esp those depressed over trivial RELATIONSHIP PROBLEMS)

She just hopes that my mum will bring her lover to her, and, in the optimum situation, they kiss and make up. My mum will then fade into the background, a healthy glow and hearty smile on her face because she has helped a couple get back together.

SHE WISH.

That will NOT happen, and she is troubling my mum FOR NOTHING. My mum is doing this shitwork out of goodwill - and as far as I know she is not even a good friend of my mum's and has never benefited my mum in any way.

What a raw deal mommy is getting! You save the fellow's life and I bet she will not be there when my mum ever needs her as a friend. Why? Coz she is busy screwing some other person who will finally cause her to commit suicide all over again. OOPS! Did I say 'commit suicide'? My bad - 'commit suicide again' is oxymoronic. I meant to say 'pretend to commit suicide'.

In fact, I told my mum just now, before she wasted goddamn petrol and sleep on this possibly dead person (this is the 3rd time she is making my mum rush out like this so I highly doubt she will die, but wish me luck), just ignore her and she will learn to grow up and accept life lah!

In fact, I even suggested to my mum that she can make me some pancakes as I am hungry. Surely making pancakes for her daughter is more important than saving a determinded suicider?

My mum gave me this "Don't be selfish" look and sped off.

ALAS. Someone give my mum a nobel prize.

******************************

I've just been at a forum where someone said his favourite blog entry of mine was on the 16th of May, 2003.

I checked and realised it is the blog entry where I stated all my molest cases. What a weird favourite. Never mind that.

And I continued reading the blog, and realised that somewhere in transition, I SEEM TO HAVE LOSE MY SENSE OF HUMOUR!!!

How come last time write until so funny! S-O-H, please come back to me!!!

I know liao lah. Coz I was a happy person then. Really. I used to smile when I am writing, which is why the entries all sound quite happy - I think.

And also because I feel so much less restricted. I HATE IT! I hate it when so many people say: "Siao, like that also can be best Singaporean Blog ah?"

So to live up to that name, I cannot write about nonsense anymore.

But well, blogder Cedric reminded me yesterday that it is very obvious when I am writing for an audience and when I write for myself. In this case, I shall boh chup and write whatever comes from the heart in future! So what if this entry will let me have hate mails from depressed suicidal girls and their friends? Who cares? It's my opinion and it's not about to change.

Hurray for blogders! To celebrate this newfound freedom, I shall blog till I die of finger cramps! Another blog entry coming up soon. =)

Updated: Blogger couldn't be opened yesterday night so this entry is only published now (4:14pm, Sept 30th)

Author's Note: Fine, I will take out the City Harvest part, although my opinion remains. And NO, I do not have to account to you about my opinions. If you cannot take it, go read some other demure blog. Plenty of those out there the last I heard.I maintain that I do not have ANY patience for suicidal people. If they meet some trauma and turn depressed, I WILL BE THERE AS A FRIEND, no problem. But in my mum's case the fellow has been suicidal for 3 months at least. Enough is enough. If she refuses to recover, then just go die and stop bothering everyone.

Please wait for the ridiculously big pictures to finish loading first! While you wait, you may wish to visit fugly.com to look at ugly pictures.

If you are a dinosaur using a 56k modem, I suggest you go take a shit first and then read this a little later. After you read it, please come look for me as I am thinking of making dinosaurs my blog's target audience, so I need your opinion.

So anyway.

It's Sunday again! As usual, all my female friends are having fun with boyfriends or with Jesus (except Eekean who is mugging). In any case, it's yet another stay-at-home day and I've decided to do some photoshop for fun. For fun?? Who am I kidding. I'm really just a lonely, single loser.

Here's how the normal, unedited picture looks like:

And then ...

After some subtle photoshop to take away the yellow colour?

I think I will try to make it look more ... magazine cover material?

Yes, I know the eyes are a little "scary", but hey! It's the smoky look alright?

A little side-by-side comparison:

Check out my new nose bridge!!! And me with black hair! Wahahahhaha!

With different effects ... I thought this one looks pretty artistic ...

VOILA!

Hmmm, the background is not clean/vibrant enough, but it cannot be helped lah.

Warning: 4,359 words. Super long blog entry, make some coffee and sandwiches first.

Once upon a time, there was an average girl studying in a average institution. At her tender age, she has yet to define what she wants in life, and without a drive to propel her to move distances, she was just another girl on the streets. A nobody.

Just like how the average person without goals functions, she lived her life by the day. A day is but a day to pass - and as usual she was entertaining herself by participating in mIRC chats with strangers. That day, normal as it was, had a little treat for her. She was delighted with what, or rather, who, she found on IRC that day.

It was Ian*.

They took off very well. Ian intrigued her with his vast bank of knowledge, and his excellent use of words. By society's definition, Ian was - as she immediately recognized - an intellect.

She loved talking to him, and him she. They discussed ideas, joked, and laughed. All in all, she treated Ian as a mentor, someone who she thought very highly of. Well, Ian was 26, studying in the university she couldn't get into, and he was taking his honours while excelling among his peers. She absorbed in many life lessons during the growth of their friendship, and she was especially delighted when Ian helped her score 83 marks during a take-home assignment she had to do.

Meanwhile, she thought that Ian must be enjoying teaching her as well, for her numerous sincere praises for him should be a nice exchange for his wisdom - though insufficient in contrast.

Slowly and surely, their friendship grew in a peculiar way - a teacher-and-student cum friends relationship if words were forced to describe it. Yet, Ian showed loyalty and protectiveness towards her, and she silently appreciated it. Friendship was of utmost importance to her, and she was grateful that she found Ian. She was that way. She fiercely protects all of her friends. If you are lucky enough to be considered one of them, she will stay loyal forever - sometimes to a silly extent.

In exchange she requests for a fierce loyalty from her friends too, and that they accept her as she is. If she traces any ounce of phoniness, bam! goes the friendship. She is honest, frank, and sometimes to the extent of blunt and tactless - but that's the way she is. In exchange, she welcomes brutal honesty back, without complain.

How lucky she was, to find a dream friend like Ian in this hypocritical era!

Ian also had a website. A simple, white, clean affair where he writes all his thoughts and feelings. Ian told her that this is called a "blog", and that "blog"s are all in the rage now!

She was malleable and impressionable. If Ian says blogs are good, then she should get one as well!

So she started blogging.

She wasn't internet savvy, and it wasn't easy. It was Ian who held her hand all the way. He taught her how to edit her HTMLs; he edited them for her even. What? She never knew that pictures in website needed to be 'hosted'! No problem of course, Prof Ian was there to help her. He hosted her background for her.

And she really started blogging.

How she loved it!

How good it felt, to siphon your thoughts into organized, clear lines of computer fonts! How nice it was, to write whatever she wanted, and be able to view them much later to see how she had once thought!

She discovered her love for writing through blogging.

She loved finding the exact words to describe how she felt, and she loved being able to express her feelings into a clear, concise sentence for others to understand her thoughts. Writing was an easy, natural task for her. If you asked her, she would tell you with her usual blatant tones that she did not understand why anyone would complain about writing being a chore at all.

And she was surprised at how much she enjoyed writing. All her life, writing has never been her forte. Her only means of comparison was her secondary school classmates, and they were the elite! She sincerely believed that the best amongst them could spell out the whole dictionary of words if he wanted to! One close friend even got accused of plagiarism at the age of 15 by a school teacher - how impressive is that?

Her clean, simple style of writing pales in comparison. In school compositions, she comes in second at best. She had begun to think that that was the correct way to write, and it dulls the joy of writing for her if she has to write in a format she dislikes.

But she knew what she was good at, if not writing! It was art - drawing, crafts, paintings! She knew she was good because people praised her every time she picked up a paintbrush.

She did not love art per se, but loved the generous sweet compliments coming after that.

As such, she was conditioned to feel good every time she draw, or painted. Was this also equivalent to the love for painting?

How different it is, she thought. The love for painting stems from being good at it, and the love for writing is there, just there.

She blogged whole-heartedly. Every single day, she put in efforts to make her blog a true reflection of her life. She did not want to look back at her diary and see it full of lies of course. Who cares about blogging for marketing? There were only two people reading her blog - one was a close classmate of hers, and the other was Ian.

These two people would not judge her!

She injects as much colour and humour into her site, because she feels that the world is disgustingly morbid as it is. She cannot understand why some people would chose to wallow in self-depression! Surely being happy is the key to a fulfilling life?

She wanted to get laughter from anyone who happens to read her. It's ok, she told herself, even if they were laughing at her and not with her. It is alright! Her intentions were purely respectable, and if there were people who wanted to mock her, then so be it! They have proven to be beneath her. She has tried to make them smile, at the expense of her own dignity sometimes, but if they remain mirthless she cannot force them to laugh.

And she was shocked. When she put up a guestbook on the third day the blog was set up, a few comments popped up - from complete strangers - telling her that her blog was funny and well-written.

Perhaps "pleasantly surprised" would be too mild to describe her feelings. She was delighted to see people telling her she is a good writer, because she has rarely heard that compliment before. Did she discover one new talent?

Meanwhile, the one person whom she could talk to regarding blogging would be Ian. Ian, being the friend he was, told her he agreed she was doing a good job and gave her encouragements.

Her readership grew.

Within 1 month, her readership reached two, three hundred visitors a day. Clearly, people loved her writings, or at least they were interested enough to have a look. If a blog's success if judged by popularity, then hers is a successful blog.

He gave her advice on how to write her blog (for instance her blog entries were ridiculously long and she should keep it to his length) and she took some, and left some.

She felt a change in Ian gradually. In his compliments, if there were any, was a tinge of him being slightly incredulous about her blogging. Sure, he still said she is funny, but merely in a manner reminiscent of the teacher-student relationship they had. Just like a teacher praising a student, it suggests that no matter how well the student scored, the teacher could always be better - because a teacher is always better.

When she expressed that this blog could really become a big thing, he was skeptical.

She was disappointed.

But she understood how he would have felt. His writing was much better than hers, supposedly. Why should she get so many readers? Is society's judgement of "good writing" wrong, or are all the readers deluded?

It became clear what Ian thought.

One day, Ian called her up. In a solemn voice, he told that her blog was read by all his peers in his college.

Honour students they were, he said, and nice, smart people. Ian told her that his peers, around 20 of them, had a gathering, and her blog was talked about.

It wasn't good news.

These friends of his believed sincerely that the online entity portrayed in her blog, the real, true her, was totally phony. In other words - they said with disgust - this blog was written by someone with the sole purpose of wanting to get attention, and all that are written are fictitious. If such a person were to exist, they said, then she must be a total bitch anyway.

She was used to being misunderstood by now. That's the price of being a writer. To write and let no one misinterpret even a small paragraph of text is almost impossible. It is inevitable! If each individual interprets the same meaning from a story, then surely Literature is not a subject to discuss at all?

She brushed off his serious tones and told him that she doesn't mind the misunderstanding by his friends, and it is no problem with her at all.

The solution was simple to her: He was to tell his friend they were wrong! She is not a fictitious creature, and she did not lie in her blog, and she was most certainly not a bitch to him.

At least, that would be what she would have done for Ian. Without second thoughts. She would have defended him - if not for loyalty as friend, then for simple JUSTICE.

But no. Disappointedly, Ian merely nodded along with his friends. He did not try to convince them that she was totally not the person they were talking about.

Why? Because they look down on her, and he is afraid to contradict them. Prima donnas do not respect such writing. She is funny, crude, and sometimes committing big fallacies in her blog. Why not anyway, it's her blog and her freedom!

But Ian's friends, regimented by society's reins, will never appreciate a person like her. Just because they are being regarded as intellects, or the "highs" of society, they take it that they can look down on people who are different from them.

They chide, they jeer, and they think they are the best - but they fail to realize one simple cliche often used: -

They laugh at me because I am different, but I laugh at them because they are all the same.

She thought Ian had accepted her for who she is, but she was clearly mistaken. Why, why wasn't he defending her? She would have done that for him!

He masked this motive of his by giving her an ultimatum - that she should change and stop behaving in this "childish" and distasteful manner FOR HER OWN GOOD, or ...

He didn't exactly say or what, but when she said there is no way she is going to close down her blog as it is her sweat, blood and pride, he then requested for her to take down his web link from her blog.

That link was the one that he put in himself - the one link that was there since the start of her blog. His decision to put it in, and now he wants to take it out.

She cried. She was so hurt that a friend would be ashamed of her, and so shocked.

He said that they could still be friends, don't cry! It is just that he ... he ... is scared that his future boss might see that he is associated with her, and he doesn't want that. Nor does he want his friends to know that he knows her.

That's NOT the way friends function! This is not correct at all!

"If," she enquired angrily of him. "One day, your friend decides to become a prostitute, will you fail to acknowledge her too?"

His answer was a yes.

She said, between sobs, that that was not what she would have done. If her friend became a prostitute, she would never be ashamed of her friend just because of the occupation she has. If anyone were to insult her friend, she would stand by her friend and tell the "insulter" that although she is a whore, she is a lovely person.

He argued otherwise and said that no! People judge you by the company you keep, and he is not taking chances.

Scum like this, she thought, it's no pity losing him at all. And what's more, the indignant part of it all lies in the fact that she was NOT WHAT THE FRIENDS SAID SHE IS! One simple clarification from him would have done the trick, but did he bother?

"So," she asked, "If we meet on the streets one day you are going to pretend not to know me?"

He answered in the affirmative.

She thought about this the whole night. Was it worth it, her blog, to make her lose friends in this manner?

She really wanted to take his advice to shut down her blog, and reclaim his friendship.

She very almost did it.

But she made up her mind. He was just an asshole only thinking of himself. If that is the way he treats friends, then she shall not need him. He can, she thought angrily to herself, jolly well work under a BOSS for the rest of his life, that rigid little rag.

He can remain superficial friends with the "company" that he has chosen specially for others to judge him by.

How saddening it is, she thought, that society molds humans into this certain form that they should be? Why let social norms force you to make decisions you do not want?

She told herself she is NEVER gonna become a person like him. These people are precisely those that will stab a friend in the back if the friend is in his way of being promoted. She is not like that, and will never be.

*

That was 1 year ago.

Now, her blog is famous. The very same blog that Ian had been skeptical about, the very same writing that he said was disgraceful, had made it.

It was now the most popular Singapore blog, and she, as no other person as done, has been interviewed on the Straits Times as a blogger. If anyone were to say "Singaporean Blogger", then surely her name will surface.

Though many beg to differ, one has to admit that mass appeal IS power. Many dislike her, but so what? Many love her too. And besides, to be able to create emotions with writing is formidable as it is.

If that day, she had taken his advice to close down her blog, she would still be a nothing now. An absolute nothing.

She thought back a little:

She was chosen to intern at Today because her lecturers saw her blog, and that's where she learnt so much.

She is now working for a comfortable salary because her boss saw talents through her musings.

If she had taken his advice, she would be an average Jane slogging away in an admin job now, most likely.

She would not be earning money for doing photo-editing freelance because she would not have even bothered to learn photoshop - or even if she did would have no platform to showcase her talents.

She would not have many numerous valuable friends, and gotten so many good suggestions and encouragements.

She would not have grown to be indifferent to selfish comments directed to her by bitter, cynical people. She foresees herself as being far more juvenile and naive as she is right now.

Her writing would not have improved and she would not be writing freelance for newspapers.

IF SHE HAD TOOK HIS ADVICE. But she didn't.

She chewed on her nail and thought to herself - at least now she is somebody.

*

Ian was gone from her life for one whole year. Suddenly, with regards to her one entry on how she regrets going to JC instead of poly, he resurfaced.

His mail went like this:

Saturday, September 18, 2004I've screwed up my lifei dunno if it's cos i read it at 6am but i thought this has GOT to be the best thing i've seen on your blog ever since u set it up... (with my help of cos, on that fateful night, altho i've perpetually failed to see any mention and/or credit to dear old me)

not cos it's self-slamming, but because it was so fuckin brutally HONEST i swear to god i'm just abt to cry (but i didnt) countless nights i've sat with my ex-nus-classmates at zouk's wine bar, nursing drinks. all of us are corporate whores now, discussin the newest industry trends, stock options, who's gettin married, who just bought a new house, who just bought a new car, and all that inane crap.just as often, in those occasional solemn moments, we talk about how fuckin lucky we are, that we are on the right side of the system, the cold unforgivin singapore education system. cos we made single digit points at O lvls, and made it to nus, and graduated with honors. that's why we're sittin here havin the drinks, not behind the bar mixing it

and i read this entry.

and for the first time, i'm seeing this from the perspective of one who's on the other side of the system. i cannot claim to be holy or that i feel your pain, but it was introspective, and it was real,and it was fuckin painfully brutally honest. and i felt it.

i dunno if u'd think much of this at all, but i personally felt this one single post re-defined your website, your blog, your life. but heck, what do i know? maybe all that obnoxcious bullshit that was on there all along was merely a second persona or a false front. i dunno, i remember a conversation once between me and a friend that went like this

friend (A) : hey dya readxiaxue.com?me : yeah, it's kinda entertainingA : fuckin funny man,that chick's sucha loserme : errr okA: comon!! it's really quitefunny!! she has no fuckin idea people are laughing AT her and not WITH her!!me : i dunno, i kinda know her, i read her blog and i thought it's kindasad, that everythin on that website, is her tryin to be sumthin she's not..A: duh, watever, i jus think it's funnyme: ...

then i read this entry, and i just SO felt it, that this was a real person who was writin somethin, pourin her heart out, albeit on a publicly-accessible forum, and everything that entry encompassed was a TRUE reflection of an actual human being. my shrink told me once, he said "Admittin u have a problem is the 1st step to recovery" i dunno if that statement by Dr. Ang is appropriate in these circumstances, but i do hope things work out for ya.

u don't have to reply this email if u choose not to, it's aight. i understand, sum things work out, some things don't.

and with this, i wish you the best, in all your future endavours. and in your life.

yours,Ian*(Prof Ian)

ps: i'd really appreciate it if this email was not reproduced in any form on the blog. this is a personal thing btw 2 human beings, Ian and wendy.

*

Here is her response to him:

Dear Ian,

I feel very happy for you that you spend your weekends wasted, thinking about how lucky you are to be able to spend your corporate cash on drinks which will spoil your liver and, amazingly, while doing that, add some money to the (pitiful) bartender's wallet.

No doubt, you are living a fulfilling life - I say, good for you.

However, I would have to correct you on your point that it is "painful" to be on my side of the system - if there were sides to begin with.

I do not seem to feel the 'pain' that you are talking about. Maybe you have misunderstood me, but I did not say that I am upset because I failed, due to my incompetence, to enter the "right side of the system". I am here, on this side, because I chose to be. I merely expressed regrets that my full potential (which is so huge it will engulf you!) is not realized because regimented bastards like you judge according to papers.

It was a nice little snippet of conversation you showed me between that twerp of a friend you have and yourself.

BUT I AM NOT INTERESTED.

Who is your friend? I don't know him. Does he know me? Oh, he does! But he is a nobody to me and I do not care what he says. *polite smile*

I would say that it was a nice little internet friendship that we had, but I would not say we were exactly close.

Therefore, when you mentioned that I am trying to be someone I am not, I hope an intellectual person like you will realize that that statement in itself is impossible. If I am always someone I am not, then you will not know who I really am. If you do not know who I really am, then how do you know that I am not who I am portraying myself to be?

Ah, a little confusing, but surely someone with an honours degree, which definitely (no doubt about it!) equates to brilliance, will manage to untangle?

Please do not speak as if you know me very well, because you clearly do not. I feel it's an insult to my mother, because she knows me the best, and at times when I am acting like I am not very smart, but in fact I really am, she doesn't even say that statement to me.

While we are at the topic of acting phony - I profusely apologize that, well, I AM that "obnoxcious" bullshit that you are talking about. That's totally me. Weird how you didn't say it is "obnoxcious" until your preppy friends started saying so huh?

Regarding the non-existent problem you were speaking of ... what is it? Oops, I forgot - it doesn't exist. Shrinks are often like that aren't they? Coming up with weird stuff. Oh but how would I know? I cannot afford to do to shrinks, no sir! Only the elites, the bureaucrats, like yourself sir!, would go to psychiatrists. The rest of us insignificant humans will swallow our problems. =(

Thank you for nothing, Ian. Your email, a loosely-masked attempt to try to tell me that you feeeeeeeel PAINFUL for my miserable life because I am not doing as well as you (how's your BOSS?), was truly a remarkable insight. I will take your advice!

Meanwhile, let me tell you something:

Shove that sympathy of yours up your boss' tight virgin ass.

If you ask me, in ten years' time you will be, to your credit, one of the higher ranking government workers. You will still be a nobody, unfortunately.

I quote Shianux: "He's the sort of people who will push paper till he is 45, after which he'll be retrenched by the Government. He has no skills to survive in the private sector". Shianux also cruelly added, may I inform you since you also nicely informed me what your friend said, "it is all the more noble and glorious to have fought and failed in the battleground of private enterprise than to have a mediocre existence being a slave to the state."

Oh no, I don't know whether what Shianux said is appropriate to the topic at hand.

Ask me, Ian, whether I would love to trade places with you now. Of course I would jump at the chance! I'd love to have people to all think I am smart and well-educated for once. But only as smart as the average graduate! Eh? That's it? Then no thanks.

Can you make 3,000 people read you a day? Try as you might, you cannot. Can I take your course in University, excel in it and finally replace you at your job? Yes, I can.

MUAHAHHAHA DO YOU FEEL MY POWER NOW? I can link you up (the horrors, what if your boss sees it?!) and there is nothing you can do about it but be fired! Oh no! What if everyone associates you with scum like me? Let's hope your boss is not as judgmental as you are, and that I am kind (which lucky for you I am).

(Isn't it weird how some people want to pay me to link them up, but some people pee in their ironed pants at the very thought?)

No way am I being conceited sir, that's not my intentions! I know I have a long way to go, and I will learn, sir, yes I will. But sir, I am different from you and the rest of the contented crowd at the right side of the system sir! I want to be the best at what I do!

All the best for your future "endavours" too!

Oh yeah. I cannot understand why you have the cheek to claim "credit" for my blog's success since you were the oNE WHO ASKED TO ME SHUT IT DOWN YOU MUTHAFUCKING BASTARD.

I'm so glad I didn't.

Love,Her

p/s: oops, I already published it! Sorry! But I changed your name see?

Sometimes I look back at the decisions I have made, and I really wonder if I would have been a totally different, and better, person.

When I was in Secondary School, I got very sick of being constantly compared with the elite - the fellow River Valley High School students. Many people may not know this, but RV was fifth in the nation at the point when I joined it.

In any case I joined RV instead of RGS because of two very ridiclously stupid reasons. 1st) I liked BOYS and 2nd) I thought a white tight-waist dress for a uniform would look splendid on me.

Being a frivolous little teen, all I wanted was attention, and fun (and having attention is fun). I did all sorts of nonsense, and I was a chao ah lian. I even joined some stupid secret society which closed down 1 month after I joined, called Ba Hai Tong or something.

As a result, my studies suffered ...

With my amazingly high PSLE score of 269, which I'm sure you already know of, I got into the best class in RV.

My word, the geniuses in there. Or maybe, as the middle-class society members would term them, freaks. In my class, there were people who scored 100% for every single CA and SA paper, and finally churn out a spanking 100 marks for the final score.

There were people who not only scored the best results for English, Higher Chinese, AND Maths but were also good in sports and very talented in Art. To add, she's also good-looking, everyone loves her, and she even has relatively big boobs (Yes I am talking about you Lin Liang!). What the Hell?!

The students in RV sobbed their hearts out when they got 7 points for their Os, because they might not be able to get into HCJC's/RJC's triple science class. OH why, why did they get A2 for Chinese Literature?!

It felt horrible I tell you. In Primary school, without any efforts whatsoever, I would top my class. It was nice of course, everyone praising you. But in sec school, instead of letting this stress motivate me to work harder, I adopted the wrong way of handling it - by trying to tell everyone that studies was not my priority, and therefore I sucked at it.

Not good. Evading the problem.

I remember this one instance in class when our Maths teachers, a high-pitched wrinkled affair, gave back our Maths CA results to us.

She is naturally gleeful as she got the best class to teach. Our A1s means her capability as a teacher, although I would not say it is entirely to her credit.

Most unfortunately for her, Cheng Yan Yan Wendy is also in her class.

She started out in a happy voice.

She said, "1D, I am very happy that in this Maths paper, almost everyone in
class scored As." She paused for a while to build the necessary suspense and
continued squeaking, "Only one person failed."

She frowned like Ken Lim
does, looking above her thick glasses.

"YAN YAN!" She screamed directly
at me. "Did you know that you got an F9 for this Maths paper?!"

I didn't
feel the least bit surprised but a little startled at the sudden attention of
the class on me.
"Uh yes Miss XX," I replied. As a matter of fact I did know
that.

"This is very bad results!" She rang shrilly. I knew that too.

"Do you know that your class did the best among the other classes?!
Without YOU, our average would have been an A1!"

Ahhhh ... So this is
what the fuss is about.

She continued scrutinizing me, her face dripping
with disgust of the highest level. I think she wanted to smack me on the head
with broom in the corner.

"And with YOU," she continued while the class
looked on in horror, "We GOT AN AVERAGE SCORE OF B4!"

Please imagine a collective disappointed gasp from my classmates (now lawyers and doctors, mind you) at this point of time.

"B4!" She repeated, as if saying a few million times will make
sound better. "THAT IS ONE OF THE WORST SCORES IN THE COHORT!"

Everyone looked at me. Fortunately for me, geeks are often very nice people, and my classmates were all kindred spirits. That must be the only reason why they continued encouraging me to do better until 2 years later when I couldn't get into the triple-science class. They must have been quite happy to see me go.

"Sorry," I whimpered, making a small note in my head that I should really improve my Algebra, and forgetting around 10 minutes later.

So this went on for 2 years until we split classes according to the subjects we choose.

I got into 3J, in which I got to know Xiao Feng, Ee Kean, Sheng Rong and some other really good friends.

That aside, my results still sucked. As a matter of fact I think I've got some proof:

OMG, HIDE THAT THING!!!!!!!!!

Secondary 1, click on the thumbnails:

Apparently the only subjects I had any respect for was Arts and Crafts and other miscellaneous unimportant things like Home Econs. These subjects also translated to those which we do not need to study for. Ahem, my cooking skills are very good ok! Did you see the mash potato I cooked! It was fantabulous!

Oh yeah. Both teachers said I was cheerful! A cheerful Lian!

Secondary 2!:

I don't know what happened, but my B4 for Higher Chinese suddenly plunged to a D7, and refused to get up till much later. Even better, my B4 for Maths suddenly dropped to a F9. Wow! If there were a 'deprovement' reward, I would have gotten it!

On the brighter side, I brushed up on some of the non-mugging subjects such as English Literature and Home Econs.

BUT WHO CARES IF YOU SCORED FOR HOME ECONS! Nobody! Unless u are planning to be a chef!

Secondary 3:

Ha! Got rid of that horrible History!

But General Science, after it was split into Chemistry and Physics, dropped to new lows of E8s and F9s. Sigh. I got B4 in sec 2, what happened?

This is depressing.

But hey! *brightens up* I am a lively girl with an artistic flair!

Secondary 4:

By the time Sec 4 came, the only subject I had any respect for was English and E Lit.

Ah, but during the last semester I did better! I am also a "popular person who is caring and helpful towards her classmates"! My liveliness cheers my class up! Hey wait. My cheerfulness livens the class up.

With such appalling results, it is no wonder that I chose to go to Poly instead of JC. And with the decision to go to Poly, it is no doubt that I continued to have appalling results.

I told myself, during sec 3, that I will not follow the usual normal scholar's route for several reasons:

1) I will be learning useless things such as F maths which will not gain me any money in future. These useless information will be taking up extra brain space and not coming to any use at all. In contrast, Polytechnics provide useful skills and knowledge.

2) I will do so well in Poly that I will go into University just the same.

3) I no longer need to wear flat shoes so I will not be so ashamed of my height.

4) I will be armed with both a dip and a degree when I go out to work in future, which is better than just a degree.

Most unfortunately, I think the decision to go into SP was the worst mistake I made in my life.

In Poly no one cares if you do well or not, so we were left to survive on our own. I was lazy, undriven, and not motivated. My priorities went to other unimportant stuff, such as BLOGGING (but at least good things came out of it, thank god)! My results were only as good as the average student, and I cannot go into University with a scholarship as I thought I could have.

"Useless" subjects? Unfortunately, since most intellects go through this path, they will discuss these useless subjects from time to time, i.e. History of America or something. If you are not able to discuss social issues with these people in depth, you are perceived to be the average, featherbrained, superficial joe. These 'important' people (important because contacts are so very important and these are influential people) will not be bothered with you, and you can jolly-well speak to other middle-classed subjects discussing the weather.

Because I did not go into JC, such subjects were not my concern (should I have taken GP I would have to read the newspapers everyday in the least) and I did not bother about them. I do not, I admit, have that "depth" that sets the intellects apart from the ordinary.

If I had studied hard then and went into JC, I might be taking a Law degree now. No one can say I am stupid except fellow Law students, but that's ok. The people at insipid forums are not even in the league to discuss my intellect. My starting pay will be $2,500, and I'll possibly set up a partnership with EK called Wong & Cheng partnership.

As Wong kindly informed me, my name would have sounded like this:

Cheng Yan Yan Wendy, NUS LLBS (Hons)

BUT ALAS! What was I thinking? What do I have now?

One SP Media & Communications diploma, which is no fight with NP's Mass Communications diploma, and a joke compared to NTU's Communication Studies degree.

And to add just a little oil to the fire, Singapore's media industry has just shrunk (yesterday, no less) from two big companies to one whooping monopoly. Any space for more media students to penetrate at all? I think not. Not with double staff everywhere.

TODAY Streats? What the hell is happening?!

I hate this. People used to ask me what stream I was when I was in secondary school, Express, Normal Academic, or Normal Tech?

I took pride in replying, "Special."

Because that's what I am.

Now when people ask me whether I am in Poly or Uni, I can merely say Poly - and they nod, like they totally expected me to be a Poly girl, because I do not seem like the JC type. Not that Poly is an embarrassment, but if people used it as a yardstick for my worth, then I wanna say I could have gone into Uni anytime I wanted.

But I cannot say that, because there is no proof.

Isn't it so very sad? My value as a person, only judged by a piece of paper. A very average piece of paper, may I add. An average piece of paper which I have not even bothered to collect from SP after my graduation.

I feel indignant, exasperated, and resentful. I am no mediocre 20 yr old.

On the other hand, the possibilities based on a decision are so vast that it is almost impossible to predict. For instance, if I were in Uni I would just be an average Law student, or maybe a Biz student.

Or even worse, failed my As and is still retaking it now and ending up in Arts and Social Science or Engineering.

At least now I have the most popular Singapore Blog.

I shall end this bitter blog entry with a gentle reminder to myself that I should listen to my mother's advice in future. "Du shu hao," she used to tell me. "Girl, you got the talent to study, then make use of it, don't keep playing."

To all the young kids reading this, make sure you go into JC if you can.

Meanwhile, it is time for me to prove my worth. I shall be driven and motivated from now on. Procrasination? That word will not exist in my dictionary.

By tonight, I will set up a media center for my blog, and by next month, I promise some new exciting features.

If everything goes by plan, I will be driving a SLK in three years, unless I decide on a nicer car. You wait and see. =D
Read The Full Article

Yes I shall finally admit it. Although I maintain that my blog was not set up initially to attract an audience, I have say now that I do feel the pressure of writing to please.

I try hard not to let that affect me. Really. >_<

However, I've decided to set up two new blogs - one for my bimbo self (including pictures of all my clothes and complaints of my newest zits! Yaay!) and one more of the more serious me, when I am trying to straighten out thoughts.

I have been procrasinating for too darn long! Finally, I had the urge to spill out some book review which no one will be interested in of course. But hey, why am I getting defensive man! I can write what I want, can't I?

Just thought I would share it with you guys. If you don't like it, it's alright with me. It is, and will be, only written for my self-reading. (Then why share the address? Because I love to hear comments - and this does not alter the fact that I am writing it for my own reading.)

Love ya guys.

p/s: I will settle this whole 3 blog thingy after a while. SLAP ME, I'm a procrasinator!

(Anyone who attempts to say the "procrasination is like masturbation" thing will have their corpse screwed by a violent necrophillic in a dirty ditch.)

How else could I have had a good friend of 8 years to come over to my place on a Saturday night to cook, vs spending Saturday like most lovers do - humping like jackrabbits and staring into each others eyes meaningfully?

Wong the Lawyer just had to spoil it, I tell you.

She volunteered to cook Mee Sua (oh no!) which she claims is going to be an easy conquest since it takes a mere 6 minutes to complete. All she had to do is to tear open the packet, pour in some 2000ml of water, and add in the ingredients; it is that simple.

By the time she came on her bicycle (we live THAT close) with the DVD of Intolerable Cruelty at hand, I had finished making my trademark MASH POTATO. It is darn good I tell you!

I am a good chef ok! My grandpa was a chef and my uncle is STILL a chef so I like to think that I have maintained that set of good genes. However, in front of people like Shuyin and Weili who are also (note: I said also) very good at whipping up gourmet meals, I PRETEND that I cannot cook!

THATS RIGHT WEILI AND SHUYIN! I was pretending! All this while I was actually an expert but I wanted you guys to do the shitwork!

Nah, actually the only thing I can cook is mashed potatoes. =( But at least it tastes good.

*

While Wong started meddling with the pots and mee sua packet, I took the chance to go take a bath.

Promptly came a deep-lunged scream from my brother: "JIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT IS THAT ON THE FLOOR??!"

Then predictably came Wong's panicky voice, "I WILL CLEAN IT UP LATER!!!"

SHE TRIED TO POISON MY CUTE AND INNOCENT DOG! NO CLOUDY, DON'T GO NEAR HER FOOD!!!!!!!!

Now Wong, this is a serious problem. I know you do not like Cloudy as it fits your theory that "ALL ANIMALS ARE FILTHY", but please do not poison him?!

Why? He is so cute! Why hate him? Oh my poor Cloudy ...

BUT ANYWAY, we managed to rescue Cloudy from the potential poison, so he is still here, quite alive and cuddled on my feet as I type this.

In the end, the mee sua, which Wong tried her best of get rid of the mysterious white specks (turns out they were "undissolvable" starch as Wong proclaimed), actually tasted like it was cooked ok.

The problem was not with Chef Wong (but of course) but with Taiwanese products - its taste by itself was quite bad. TOLD YOU NOT BE INDULGE IN CHEAP GOODS WONG!

So you were wondering what has all the cooking got to do with sports. Here it goes, my MSN conversation with Wong this afternoon:

Oh no I am at home on Saturday!! says: (This is me)wong eekean!yingz - i've got gmail yeay! says: (This is Peiying)what?Wong says: (This is Wong)she mo tai ji
Wong says:
i wanna play badmintionOh no I am at home on Saturday!! says:
dun want can
yingz - i've got gmail yeay! says:
and you're asking yan yan???Wong says:
why cannot?
Wong says:
she's gettin fat n uglyyingz - i've got gmail yeay! says:
yea but no way she's gonna play badminton
yingz - i've got gmail yeay! says:
hey why don't you ask ah dong they all... their rackets still at my placeWong says:
har?
Wong says:
but they are not a cycle awayOh no I am at home on Saturday!! says:
and dun care about me?!
Oh no I am at home on Saturday!! says:
cannot like that la dohyingz - i've got gmail yeay! says:
yea u evil girl dun wanna play badmintonWong says:
yalor
Wong says:
u so fat n lazy n u blame me for not askin uOh no I am at home on Saturday!! says:
i suck at it whatWong says:
I ask u last night lorWong says:
noWong says:
no what
yingz - i've got gmail yeay! says:
hey i dunno how to play lo and i learnt it horOh no I am at home on Saturday!! says:
if i ask u to spend the day doing photoshop u want?Wong says:
I rem u were q good leh
Oh no I am at home on Saturday!! says:
lol whatever gave u that impression
Oh no I am at home on Saturday!! says:
and i dun have sport shoes either
Wong says:
look: at badminton I can RETURN ur serveOh no I am at home on Saturday!! says:
my nikes disintergreted themselves after 3 years of disuseWong says:
how the hell do I photoshop WITH uOh no I am at home on Saturday!! says:
we can play competitive photoshopOh no I am at home on Saturday!! says:
BUT MY POINT IS
Wong says:
what in the world is competitive photoshop?Oh no I am at home on Saturday!! says:
u do not like playing with stuff u either suck at or don't know how to doWong says:
u dun suck lar
Wong says:
last time we played at rv
Oh no I am at home on Saturday!! says:
just like badminton and photoshopOh no I am at home on Saturday!! says:
NO NO NOOh no I am at home on Saturday!! says:
no sport shoesWong says:
u were playin wif me n U DIDN"T SUCKOh no I am at home on Saturday!! says:
no sports WEAROh no I am at home on Saturday!! says:
I DID TOO! I sucked!
Wong says:
play with slippers lar u fool!Oh no I am at home on Saturday!! says:
i'm too short then my serving range v lowWong says:
nonsenseOh no I am at home on Saturday!! says:
oh no no no no shoes without heels
Oh no I am at home on Saturday!! says:
DUN WANT LAH
Oh no I am at home on Saturday!! says:
dun be sillyWong says:
u dun have slippers???Oh no I am at home on Saturday!! says:
i'd rather go shopping
Wong says:
I give up fighting with uOh no I am at home on Saturday!! says:
good to hear
Wong says:
I'm gonna ask someone else to play with me
Oh no not badminton! No sports for me, it causes sweaty vulvas! says:
sureWong says:
I honestly dun understand ur aversion to sportsOh no not badminton! No sports for me, it causes sweaty vulvas! says:
it causes sweaty vulvasWong says:
can u pleaseOh no not badminton! No sports for me, it causes sweaty vulvas! says:
NO!Wong says:
STOP BEING LAZYOh no not badminton! No sports for me, it causes sweaty vulvas! says:
i will FOREVER be lazy
Wong says:
ur mom says ur fatWong says:
I say ur slumpy
Oh no not badminton! No sports for me, it causes sweaty vulvas! says:
i dun mind what the pots call me
Wong says:
can u please????
Oh no not badminton! No sports for me, it causes sweaty vulvas! says:
no lah actually i dun mind going swimmingWong says:
n yesterday u did the most sinful stuff in the diet dictionaryWong says:
u could have burned in hell for thatOh no not badminton! No sports for me, it causes sweaty vulvas! says:
wat, horrid mee sua?Oh no not badminton! No sports for me, it causes sweaty vulvas! says:
i didnt touch that stuffWong says:
eating mash potatoes like 1 tub at midnightOh no not badminton! No sports for me, it causes sweaty vulvas! says:
*cough pot cough*Wong says:
can u behave like an average ger?
Wong says:
watch ur sodding diet n weight
Oh no not badminton! No sports for me, it causes sweaty vulvas! says:
average girls do not like their vulvas SWEATY
Oh no not badminton! No sports for me, it causes sweaty vulvas! says:
what is wrong with u??Wong says:
they do not have sweaty genitaliaOh no not badminton! No sports for me, it causes sweaty vulvas! says:
what if someone offers to perrform cunninlingus for me after the game?
Oh no not badminton! No sports for me, it causes sweaty vulvas! says:
what am I supposed to say?
Oh no not badminton! No sports for me, it causes sweaty vulvas! says:
"Sorry, my vulva is sweaty, u sure u wanna do this?"Wong says:
den sodding say meet u in the shower roomWong says:
n lap urself with doveOh no not badminton! No sports for me, it causes sweaty vulvas! says:
too much troubleWong says:
...
Oh no not badminton! No sports for me, it causes sweaty vulvas! says:
hahhahaha
Oh no not badminton! No sports for me, it causes sweaty vulvas! says:
conclusion: NO BADMINTON, NO SPORTS!

It is so fun to make Wong angry. Hahahahha *evil grin*

Sports is not cool, because? REPEAT AFTER ME: It causes sweaty genialia!

I feel discriminated for my love of the great purple vegetable, the BRINJAL.

Yes yes, I can almost feel you people giving me the pitying look because I like eggplants. It's almost like I admitted I actually have the fetish of cutting myself with razor blades and you don't know what to say except eye me sympathetically because I am born weird.

At the same time, i can also sense the fellow closet brinjal lovers look at me with something close to worship, because I have courageously admitted that I love brinjals - to open discrimination. It is almost as brave as admitting you are Jewish in Hitler's face.

I have not always been in love with the brinjal. Let me tell you our true story. It is in fact so touching, I expect you to cut the following excerpt and mass forward it by the millions in emails. Add that if they do not pass on the message, their lovers will discriminate them for life.

I've always disliked brinjals as a young child, because it is ugly and purple. People ask me, Wendy, why do you not like purple? Purple is PINK and blue mixed, and I thought you like pink?

We love purple, yeah!

NO! I love pink, but I hate blue.

"Hpmf! What's wrong with blue?!

For some reason, the favourite colour of 80% of Americans (yes, various shades of BLUE) makes me feel quite disgusted. I cannot explain or justify this superficial distaste, just like you cannot explain why you just have this contempt for Cao Qi Tai (we just hate his face don't we all?!!).

The colour I hate the most is the dustbin blue. That common, primary shade of blue. I hate it. It makes me feel like kicking all the blue dustbins.

Why must they all be this shade? It is so hideous, isn't it? If I ruled the world, our skies will be pale pink with rainbows ALL THE TIME. Why are rainbows so goddamn rare anyway? It's so annoying.

So anyway, back to purple.

I dislike, or rather, disrespect, purple, because it is not - like what most people suggest - a mixture of PINK and blue.

IT IS ACTUALLY PINK, The Most Beautiful Of Colours, TAINTED with blue. Therefore, it sucks.

Food should not be ugly. It shouldn't be purple! Nor mushy for that matter.

Digressing, there is a certain type of pasta sauce called the squid ink sauce or something like that, and IT IS BLACK (yes, black). Not lor mee kinda dark brown and clear, but opaque BLACK, with mysterious small specks inside that might have been other colours (maybe garlic pieces - or squid shit, we'll never know).

Together with the pale yellow spaghetti and beige coloured clams, it has a horrid look of good food drenched with the water used to rinse a very, very filthy rag.

A date ate this piece of evil concoction with relish (lips black from the sauce) while I looked on in horror. He told me to try some, and to his credit it tasted merely OK, and looked slightly worse than scary. Not worth it, I'd say.

So yes, I discriminated the brinjal because it looks ugly. I refused to try it.

Then one fine day, I was with Sheng Rong and his family in Hong Kong, having dinner at an expensive Chinese restaurant.

Being non-discriminators of ugly food, Sheng Rong and his sister Goldie loved brinjals. I would say that Sheng Rong would be the exact kinda person who will give the squid ink sauce spaghetti a try too.

Slutty Sheng Rong also looks like Harry Potter so when Eekean (far right) saw a Harry Potter poster, she had a sudden stroke of brilliance and asked Sheng Rong and his sister (third from left) and friend Peiyi to pose in front of it.

Very bo liao, click on the thumbnail.

But also very uncanny. Back to the story at hand, Sheng Rong's sister Goldie, a person who would tolerate no nonsense, force-fed me some of the expensively prepared brinjal (despite me wailing in protest that I do not eat BRINJALS! Nah, I'm kidding, she actually asked me nicely to try some) and Sheng Rong, giving me an utterly evil look, asked me whether it is nice.

His face clearly stated, "Say it is nice, or ELSE!".

Kidding aside, he actually genially asked me if I liked it while Goldie looked on in enthusiasm.

And it actually tasted GOOD!

They laughed and patted me on my back for the courage, and welcomed me to the Adoration for Brinjals club.

From that day onwards, I would have sudden convulsions of craving for brinjals, and my love for it has not dimmed since that significant day in December 2002.

Thus ends the brinjal love story.

*frowns* Some people say I like brinjals just because they are phallic, but that is not true at all.

I did not realise the long-term complications that came with our relationship. Clearly, there are many people who cannot accept my partner for who or what he is.

There was this once when I was out with this newly-known colleague of mine. We had lunch together, and there it went again! I had a sudden craving to consume eggplants.

With him beside me, we ordered for rice with a variety of mixed dishes, and I did my order first.

Expectedly it consisted of brinjals.

I could see him raise an eyebrow - and I felt slightly ashamed that I ordered the object of my colleague's condescension.

When we sat down with our food, he set his face into a look of polite nonchalence and began on his very normal plate of chicken, tofu and the average and socially acceptable veggie: The xiao bai cai.

I looked at him, and meekly asked, "Do you eat brinjals?"

"NO!" he answered quickly, as if offended that I should even doubt that a normal person like himself would consume such bizarre trash.

"Why?" I asked, although I think I know his answer.

"Because it is gross! It is mushy and soft and it is DISGUSTING."

"Ah."

He continued with his food, and I think he does not want to sit beside me.

"Do you discriminate people who like brinjals?" I pressed on.

"YES," he replied, without a grin. "You are disgusting lah," he further informed me.

"Nice what ... " I started, but my voice traced off weakly. "Hey, why not you try a bit?" I chirped as an afterthought.

HOW SAD IS THIS? From that day onwards (the story is 100% true btw), I am quite ashamed to eat my brinjals in public.

To my horror, I have also discovered that I like lady's fingers as well. That is saying a lot, considering I used to think that the only good that came out of this veggie is that it makes nice prints in primary school when teachers ask us to make paint prints from fruits. (Digressing, the head of the xiao bei cai makes a nice "rose" prints when its leaves are severed)

Try telling the average teenage kid that you like lady's fingers, and they will laugh and tell you only aunties like lady's fingers and if you like lady's fingers, you possibly like eating mucus too.

I have no idea what caused my change of taste.

But anyway, lucky for me, Shuyin and Weili both love brinjals and lady's fingers as well, so I can always eat it with them.

As for Peiying, Xiao Feng, Ee Kean and Ghim hui, I think they still discriminate me for liking brinjals. =(

Oh, woe is me!

p/s: On the other end of the spectrum of people who discriminate brinjal lovers, there are people who love brinjals. Click HERE for the evidence.

Site comes complete with a brinjal which is supposed to be hailing something:

Apparently this month she is on the cover of "SHAPE" or some health mag with a rainbow bikini. I know she has really kickass boobs, but is there really a need to use her so many times we all can draw her face with our eyes closed and hands miamed?

What is wrong with Singapore's media? Do we really have a lack of models for using as cover girls?

Speaking of over-exposed models, may I present to you ....

JAYMEE ONG!

Wow! Cover of Health mag.

Bam, another. Gimme more Jaymee!

"Sure thing", says Cleo.

Not enough? Here's another, courtesy of Cleo!

ENOUGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHY ALL THE SAME PEOPLE OVER AND OVER AGAIN?!

Don't be silly dear, it's not your fault at all.

ARRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!

NO! That Is Enough!

BOOM!!!!!!

The last two are current issues. -_- Nod with me now: Is she over exposed, or over exposed?

Mind you, I do think Jaymee is gorgeous.

But I would like to see some new blood for once.

Come to think of it, maybe it is not that difficult to have that kinda look that magazine girls have. It's all just photoshop, isn't it?

There you go. Mind you, my "before" photo here was already being photoshopped, so the difference is not too much. But take a closer look!

Of course, some of us will claim that the "before" photo looks more natural and thus nicer - BUT THAT'S BULLSHIT. No mag covers will put that photo of mine as the front page.

Anyway, I'm so talented, I do not understand why Maxim is not scouting me to be their photo editor. *tsk tsk* HEY YOU THERE! You! You mumbling that I am not that good what, why I so hao lian? YOU ARE WRONG! I am THAT good. If the creator of photoshop is the best, then I am the mountain that is always higher than the other mountain (I see the non-chinese/kantangs go like, "huh?!").

Well as usual this post is going to piss of the relevant industry's people, who will claim that I am shooting my mouth without knowing anything. You know how most (I said MOST) gay make-up artists operate: "Aiyoh! That xiaxue bitch! Always talk nonsense! SO BITCHY! And her breasts ah, small small only, still talk so much!" - to be said in a trans/malay accent and completed with broken wrist.

...
and etc.

Truth is, there is only one reason why they keep using the old crowd: There is indeed not enough models.

Well then kudos to Cleo, which holds auditions for new Cleo cover girls, and to FHM, which recently featured Margaret Lee, who is, erm, definitely not very normal cover girl material.

BUT WHY??? Why are there not enough models in Singapore? Is everyone too smart and educated to take a job which under-utilises their brains nowadays?

Come to think of it, if I spent 10 years of my life studying, why would I wanna be a model? Ah, to get shagged by rich guys driving Zondas of course, then siphon their money dry and then go fuck another rich guy who lives in Queen Astrid Park or 6th Ave.

Model 3: I don't know leh, I think we sort of bounce about. Oh, it messes up my hair. =*(

HEY YOU THERE! You who are muttering that some models are smart too! YOU ARE ..... CORRECT! That day, I was talking to one of them, and I asked her, like, hello there, how many alphabets are there do you remember? and she said, like, was it 24 or 26? guffaw guffaw

Well, do YOU know how many alphabets there are? And do you also know that 512 is the cube of 8? Or that the human body has 206 bones? And that the enamel coating your teeth is actually harder than your skull?

OH DEAR! If yes, then you are too smart to be a model lah dear. Trust me, u will contribute more (meaningfully) to our country's GDP by being a marketer or engineer. ;)

But what I don't get is this: Why do these rich guys let the girls siphon their cash and sometimes even marry them?

Going by pure logic and no sexual elements, these rich guys should be relatively smart right, that's why they made it rich/maintained wealth.

Therefore, smart people should seek smart partners for three good reasons:

1) To ensure smart genes for kids to continue success in the business they spent a lifetime building up.
2) To be able to have a fulfiling conversation with partner without feeling like crashing her skull.
3) To use her intelligence to help make critical decisions in the business and provide business solutions.

To the contrary however, we see plenty of these rich (also supposedly smart) people dating/marrying dumb actresses and models.

Plenty of logic behind that too I guess:

1) Is a good fuck
2) Is too dumb to notice if you cheat on her (or doesn't care since she cheats too)
3) Children will look good - (but are so stupid they will all get herpes at the age of 11)
4) Can show off like trophy and make the guy with the smart but ugly wife pissed off (but his smart son will trash your business).
5) Has so much money he doesn't mind paying for something as long as it is aesthetically pleasing.
6) Feeds ego as he feels he is damn smart whenever conversing with her.

Oh well, the dumb model wins the average-looking lady in the power suit with the quiet IQ of 150. What a pity.

*****

Back to the topic of brains-not-necessary occupations, today Wong the Lawyer and I went to Ikea to have dinner.

Very unfortunately, there was but one two seater table at the side of this lady.

I took a glance at her, absorbed in the electric blue eyeshadow, tight black bun and blood red nails, and I knew it was no good news.

But what choice do we have? It was the only seat around.

I grudgingly took the seat beside her.

BAD MOVE.

Later on, her friends came to join her - some skinny Indian lady and some Chinese girl.

The moment their asses touched the seats, they started gushing at her.

"OMG your make up! You look so different!"

The original girl merely smiled a "I am so lucky and you can only be envious" smile at them.

The Indian girl started to gush about how her current make up makes her eyes look bigger or something.

I, as a professional *ahem*, ok, freelance make up artist, took one more glance at her and almost laughed out loud. Since when was electric blue eyeshadow a "nice make-up"?? In fact, I think Qin Shi Wang should have burned all baby/electric blue eyeshadow when he tried to burn all the books in ancient China.

She looks like someone from the 80's popped up from the grave and tried to force make-up on her.

Anyway, it was apparent what the BIG HOOHA was about. She was newly made an air stewardess.

I don't see the big fuss about air waitresses, seriously. Most of them are fugly with super red lipstick. I say MOST. Why must guys go like "Whoop! My girlfriend is an air stewardess!" when it is almost nothing to be proud about? Why don't they go "Whoop! My girlfriend is the CEO of Raffles Holdings!" (That's Jennie Chua btw, and I totally adore her because she is so capable, she worked her way up in hospitality starting out as a banquet waitress. She is also hilarious).

Why is it ok for girlfriends to be superior to them in looks but not in intelligence/capability??! What kinda crap logic is that?

Anyway, back to the story:

Moving swiftly on from make-up (a whole fifteen mins), they started discussing the tight bun she had on her nape.

Being an ex-banquet waitress, I assure you that that bun is not difficult to tie at all and nothing to drool over. It is BUT A FUCKING HAIR BUN!

She started explaining to them, while they listened with bambi eyes, that she twirled and twisted and used a lot of what she called "U-pins" to secure the bunch of dead cells.

And added she used two hairnets so it's more "secure".

What a bunch of airheads! And why did she have to keep the bun on when she is outta the airport? TRYING TO HAO LIAO!

What about minds who discuss superficial aesthetics? They should add another: Imbecile minds discuss U-pins in great detail.

I would have forgiven Miss New Air Waitress if she talked about the weather next - in her little phoney English accent may I add.

BUT NO! She started to talk about her MANICURE! Which looked like shit on her stumpy nails. Blah blah it's a airline thing to have it red it is sponsored all the girls do the same blah blah blah.

Then her friends talked about another subject, and I stole a glance at her, and you know what? She wasn't listening but admiring her nails. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH HER??!

They moved swiftly on to how little they eat a day and Indian girl proclaimed that she is really very full and didn't wanna touch dinner.

I took a hopeless look at the thunderstruck Eekean, and gulped down the last of my meatballs, and fled from the place.

Never may I meet another person like that again. Amen.

*****

Oops! Let's wrap up this blog entry.

But what hell was Elle thinking when they got Rachel Lee to be cover?

Oh my god the tragedy. Whatever class and prestige the mag had was gone in one day. Not that Rachel is, erm, not a nice girl of course. Bleah, I better shut up here if I ever wanna write for Today again. *grins*
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There is this Chinese saying called huo bu dan xing, which literally means that disasters do not travel alone. That's right! It has a set of buddies it likes to bring along with it to bug you forever till you die of depression.

Recently I've been experiencing this. Within a short while, I quarreled with 3 friends (two of which are fine now), and I feel thoroughly miserable.

Someone up there must feel that that is not enough, I was made even more miserable yesterday.

I've just got my pay, and since I've been feeling very lonesome recently ...

LET ME DIGRESS!!!

****************
After watching an episode of Super Sunday, I was informed by the Taiwanese media that girls like guys who are you(1) yu(4) (depressed and melancholy, not cuttlefish).

The perfect example would be Vic Zhou in Meteor Garden. Ho ho ho! If you are one cheery guy, you can now wallow in self pity - for the truth is out. Girls only like depressed guys.

For some weird reason, girls FEEL for the guys who sits down for hours staring into the stars, moping like nobody's business.

The girls feel that you yu guys are deep and mysterious. Deep + mysterious = great sex.

WOOO! That guy sitting on the swing in the lonesome playground - my word, there must be so much to find out about him! What is making him so melancholy? I just wanna cuddle him between my ... arms to make him feel better! I'm sure morose as he is now, I can be the one girl who will light up his life for him ... I am so intrigued and infatuated. Oh the floppy hair and bambi eyes which shine with tears!

VS:

Yikes siao one that guy so happy and so loud for what. Surely a frivolous being. What a flirt.

Surely you wanna take the disconsolate her into your arms while she nuzzles in your chest and you wipe away her tears for her? Meanwhile, her silky straight hair will fall over her face and you will, gently using your fingers, push them away. She looks up at you with her soulful eyes and blinks twice, a silent "thanks" for you being there for her.

Altogether now! "Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww ..."

Guys totally love that bullshit.

So I have decided! From now on, I shall be a depressed girl. OH WOE IS ME!

To complete your image of me as a absolutely woebegone person, I shall supply a photo of me looking you yu:

Please take note! It comes complete in sepia (a depressed colour-mode if there is one) - and coupled with the meaningful yet hopeless words it is even more sexy than EVER! Don't you just wanna take me into your arms and comfort me, guys?!

However, please pardon the particular green pepper at the side of the picture. *frown* A professional depressed-photo should not have vibrant vegetables in it.

Oh oh oh! Let's have a digression in the middle of this digression!

Don't you think that a lot of fruits/veggies have sexual connotations??! Why is that so I wonder?

Moving on, it was Peiying who tried to shove the pepper into my mouth as I took the picture. A good thing photographer Ghimz was fast too, for the next moment after I took the pic I was bursting in laughter.

But in actual fact I am a really you yu person.

Please fall helplessly in love with me.

********* End Digression *************

I was saying that since I was very lonesome recently, I'm decided to the one way to get companionship - BUY IT. I shall get famous singers to accompany me on the long journey home by buying a memory stick for my mp3 playing Clie!!

Gleefully, I walked into the spanking new and pure white Sony Gallery at Wisma's 4th floor (topshop there).

I bought the 128mb memory stick at $87.

That was taken before the photographer (yours truly) went into such severe depression Woodbridge is asking her to quit her compulsive blogging syndrome and go to bed (ha, I know it took a long time for this post to come up, but I am depressed, forgive me) now.

In fact, I was so happy I even took a picture of my newly manicured nails! ($8.90 at bugis village)

After which, at 945pm, I gleefully opened up the package and inserted the memory stick into the clie.

WHAT

THE

HELL!

The screen started to flicker ominously with only white and black horizontal lines and on, and it could not be turned off.

"No problem lah," I comforted myself. "Just press reset lor ..."

And I did! But with no avail at all. The screen continued to flicker. I told my clie, "Please don't like that, please?" and it didn't listen! IT IS GOING BERSERK! SOMEBODY HELP ME~!!!!

I tried pressing every single button on the poor Clie and nothing changed.

Finally, I pressed and held the on/off button.

What returned was a nice new screen (yay no more flickering!) which asked me in mock politeness:

"Would you like to erase all data?"

OF COURSE NOT YOU STUPID DUMBASS CLIE!

Since I couldn't heal my Clie, i decided the next best thing to do is to kill its murderer - the salesman. I asked him umpteen times if there were compatible issues and he said no. Clearly then, his product is FAULTY!

I SHALL KILL THE TRAITOR! My clie was my only friend!!!!! I read Harry Potter on it! I cannot live without it! How could he do this to me, I hate him!

AND YOU KNOW WHAT? Basically, I paid $87 to screw myself! Oh congratuations! At least I get to keep the memory stick! FOR FUCK WHEN MY PALMTOP IS GONE??! What is this, promotional gimmick? Buy a memory stick and get an excuse for a brand new Clie? No thanks hor!

Today, I returned to Sony Gallery in the morning when it is opened. The same salesman was there, and he was befuddled as to why the clie is behaving in this childish manner.

He then did the smart thing by delegating the problem-solving to the techicians.

By this time, may I assure you that I am one very pissed being. I am not very nice when I am pissed. I was also from NCC and I did the Baris Sediyak (how to spell?) thingy when I was in school so I can shout pretty loud too.

The fellow gave me a casual "oh, so your clie spoil ah?" look which thoroughly pissed me off. HELLO I AM NOT YOUR NORMAL CUSTOMER WHOSE PRODUCT WENT FAULTY OK IT WAS YOUR MEMORY STICK WHICH CAUSED IT SO THE LEAST YOU CAN DO IS LOOK PATRONISINGLY APOLOGETIC!

The asshole went on the mention that since my warranty is over (speaking of which, it was over on AUGUST 2004, how suay can I get?), he wants to highlight to me the relevant charges.

I hollered at him.

"WHAT? This is ridiculous! It is YOUR memory stick which spoilt my Clie and now you want me to pay for the repair? Are you crazy? In fact, I think YOU should compensate me for my time wasted here and also for the important data that is in my clie!"

He gave me a relatively shocked look, and all I wanted to do then was to smash his head with his luxurious Sony Vaio's LCD screen.

Of course I got the bloody repairs free.

Bloody ineffective bastards, will take them another five days (ARE THE TECHICIANS ALL RETARDED, OR ARE SONY PRODUCTS CONSTANTLY BREAKING DOWN??! FIVE days! A mosquito would have finished it's lifespan by then, it is THAT long!) to repair the clie.

When they have it back to me, I am going to demand a full refund from them for $87 and buy the light purple ordinary memory stick from Yahoo! Auctions - not another magic-gate is coming anywhere near my clie!

Bloody assholes. "Relevant charges". THE CHEEK!

Moral of the story: Do not randomly insert foreign objects into fitting holes without first checking for defects of foreign object. The results might be deadly.
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